


Running

by Caellam



Category: Original Work
Genre: Original Fiction, Original work - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29780400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caellam/pseuds/Caellam
Summary: A short doodle about going forward.Inspired by the song "Dorce" from Anthemics





	Running

I’m running and it doesn matter. I’m always running and it never matters. Passing the grand city gates I’m wearing my trusty pack and the runner’s clothes. Did I take this route before? Probably not, I never take any route twice. Last time I passed by the sea, but this time I’ll be taking the land route as it seems, but it doesn’t matter. They always tell me it doesn’t matter, as long as I get it there. So I run, to get it over with, to feel.   
I run near the river, the fresh air refreshes me and I see swarms of fish curiously rise to the surface to watch me run.   
Their sleek, wet scales glitter in the morning sun, enhancing their beauty manifold. Do they know how beautiful they are? It likely does not matter to them, it does not matter to me, it never mattered to me.

  
I always had longer fur than the others, they told me I should cut it, I would look beautiful like that. Women would love me with it.   
It didn’t matter, but they never stopped telling me. So I started running.   
I pass the bridge to the other side, I would jump over the river at a later point to save time, to feel more, taking the beaten path doesn’t matter.   
The bridge is broad, it has probably been used by merchants for years until the wisest men managed to find out how to channel magic in order to transport objects. Only the couriers matter these days, we run to bring the packages to every corner of the continent. I doubt anyone has used this bridge in years, it doesn’t matter anymore.

  
I curve around it, it smells rotten and has moss all over it, we couriers don’t use bridges, we rely on the land, we run, we swim, we fly if we can.   
I usually go by water if I can, but most of the time I am not allowed to, they told me I would have to run often, despite being built for water, it doesn’t matter, as long as I move I can feel something.   
I see the part where the river isn’t as wide and know I can jump right there. I prepare, when jumping everything matters. I delicately angle my torso and my legs and start sprinting. The soil beneath my feet changes as I approach it, wetter, less grass, more rocks. I would feel them if I weren’t wearing special shoes, but that doesn’t matter right now.   
Right foot, I prepare to take off, left foot, energy is getting conversed. Right foot, I am partially in the air now. Left foot, I am not touching the ground anymore at all. I run in the air to close as much distance as possible.   
I am not built for jumping, my tail is long and sloppy, my feet are shorter than others. But it doesn’t matter, I practiced this. I jumped from one roof to the other when I was younger to escape them and they could never follow.

  
I feel the cold breeze that is carried by the water. I see a fish curiously look at me as my reflection touches it. I angled correctly, the sun does not blind me at all so I can see the other side approaching. I brace for impact.   
Right foot, I land, left foot, I can hear the soil shift. I don’t trip. I never trip. I am running once more. Good.   
The steppe between kingdoms is just in front of me. I have never passed through it from this angle but I will find my way, I always do.   
  
I leave the river-painted region behind me and curve around the fields of colorful flowers and grasses. They might not matter to me, but they do to the wildlife. I have no intention to interfere with nature as long as I can avoid it.   
I once heard the steppe was once a glorious battlefield, where kingdoms fought over resources that are now long gone. Kingdoms now live for themselves, autonomously, they only send wares to each other via technology and magic. Teleportation. People don’t travel, though.   
Only us, the couriers. I don’t take a moment to take in the view. I need to keep running. Curious animals start running alongside me, or they simply enjoy something new. I never cared for this. They always show up when I run. I heard of couriers that start riding on some of the four legged ones, horses, deer, camels, I find it disrespectful, to them and to the work. I need to keep running myself.

  
The sun is at its highest now, I can’t tell when I’ll get to my destination but it doesn’t matter. I am closing in to a large lake, shimmering in the sun, running at its shore lets me look at the vast surface again. By the stars do I miss swimming,I will keep on running forward though, or they’ll catch me. I won’t ever go back and let them have me.   
The sand of the shores is too soft to maintain a steady running speed, but I will keep on going like this. I miss the cool feeling of being near water, even if the route is slower I prefer to run alongside rivers. I am taking in as much as possible, the kingdom I am delivering to, is housed in the mountains, so I won’t see any water for a while now. I keep on running, a herd of horses gallops to my side, their manes are fluttering in the wind. They do not care how long it is, they simply live like they want to. Why did no one ever let me live the way I did. Why did they force me to run away?   
I curve away from the lake, I can see a path towards the mountains, now I know where to go.   
  
I have entered caves to bridge longer distances a lot. But never have I seen a cave like this. Bugs are scuttling around my feet whenever I take a step, they don’t matter to me, but to someone else. The cave is brilliantly shining. A multitude of colorful gemstones that reflect light from small gaps in the cave’s walls make it look like the hall of a high lord with more decor than anyone needs.   
They fought over these stones once. But money does not matter anymore, so they are being left alone. I wonder why the stones are all sticking out on the surface instead of being buried deeper in the walls as I keep running. The air in the cave is slightly warm yet damp, it makes my fur poofy, a feeling I do not particularly enjoy.   
I do not have to climb, good, I am not built for climbing and never practiced it enough. Thanks to these paths having been used to transport soldiers I can just run up. Only need to look out for ground that isn’t smoothed, can’t trip on the job, I never did, I never will.

  
I run further along the path, taking out my waterskin to refresh myself, I have been running since morning. Food doesn’t matter, there are enough nutrients mixed within the water that it keeps me going for days on end without any sleep. Just need to keep running.   
I pass over a ridge, I can see the entire steppe from here. Trenches and chasms lie over the land like veins on a strong arm.   
I do not have the time to admire. I need to keep on running and so I do.

  
Until I don’t.   
I got too distracted by the view. My foot steps on something uneven. It might be a cluster of rock that a wild animal broke out of the ground.   
I fall.   
I never fell before. I always ran.   
Nothing matters anymore.   
I stopped running.   
I feel the package falling from the bag. Behind me. My only reason to run.   
I know I will have to turn back for it.   
I close my eyes and breathe. Numbness floods over me. And so do their voices.   
My eyes fall to the path behind me, where the package should be.   
I do not see anything. Only darkness.   
Thick inky black, dotted by countless, gigantic eyes, staring at me. Mouths and arms forming that spew curses at me.   
I will not forgive you. I will not change. I will not stop moving   
I will not act any way you want me to.   
I will not. Turn. Around.   
My eyes close as the darkness hits me. My hands stretch out to the package.   
I do not feel anything. Nothingness envelopes me.   
I can not give up here but if I do not run, nothing matters.   
I should feel warm, the evening sun should feel good on my fur.   
I feel nothing.   
Their voices start making sense.

“Why did you never stay.” “When will you return.” “Why are you not talking to me.” “You never mattered.” “You were a mistake.” “We have to leave you behind.” “Why don’t you change?” “You should be happy” “You should be  _ happy” “You” “Should” “BE “HAPPY” _   
“ **SHUT UP”**   
I yell. I scream with all my soul. And an inch of feeling returns to my body.   
The box is in my hand. I turn away from the shadowy darkness and start breathing as I walk.    
It is gone.   
  
I still walk on the ridge as I open the package. We are strictly forbidden to, unless whatever is inside might get damaged. I have to check it.   
We never get told what is inside the boxes we deliver. But it doesn’t matter, is what they always told us.   
I remove the seals and open the small metal box, shining now in the light of the setting sun.   
As I stare inside I am greeted by a strange face. A small creature, with four legs, scales and a set of wings look back at me.   
It screeches and for a second with a weird sound, I tilt my head.   
Of course it would be a living creature, sentient creatures can not be transported by magic, or will die in the process.   
For a second I think, and remember, this must be a dragon.   
Wild dragons, as opposed to sapient ones, were used in the wars of old. Everyone knows that they were destroyed as species due to the wars.

  
The curious creature climbed up on my sleeve and perched itself on my shoulder, teal scales reflecting the gentle sun in different angles.   
It nuzzles my cheek and despite me just standing here, I can feel it.   
The numbness is gone.   
I stare towards the steppe. And only now do I notice how nothing here seems natural.   
The chasms are likely scars from the war. The ground is unnaturally flat and yet surrounded by countless mountains. The lake is too round to have naturally formed.   
The Dragon makes a sound. I know sapient dragons with raspy voices but the sound this one makes is one of gentle wind-chimes.   
I look at it and notice an admiration for the landscape in its eyes.   
And I understand. It always mattered that I ran. That we were running. We are carrying a legacy. This whole place, it healed from the deepest scars, with time, rest and help. 

And so can I.

I once more start walking, into a slight jog, and start running once more.    
The tiny dragon lifts its wings and starts flying next to me, making the chime like sound once more.   
I look back and see the shadows that have been chasing me all my life disappearing.   
For the first time in my life I am running and I know that it matters. I am running for hope, my own and the world’s.   



End file.
